Personal Space
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: Post-Episode 3.16 missing scene oneshot. After another day out teaching Henry to navigate by the stars, Hook drops the lad back home and finds himself getting a little too close to Emma. Emma/Killian, Captain Swan type fluff.


_**A/N: **The bit in Episode 3.16 where Emma and Hook have a bit of a moment involving some serious longing looks outside Emma and Henry's door just wasn't quite enough for my greedy little Captain Swan loving heart, and so... yeah, this is what happened. Sorry! I do hope you like it though!_

_**Disclaimer: **_**Once Upon A Time** _was created by _**Edward Kitsis** _and _**Adam Horowitz**_. I'm just borrowing Emma and Killian and messing with their heads for a little while, I promise I'll put them right back._

**Personal Space **

Emma watched him closely.

In groups, Hook had often gravitated towards her. Partly because it annoyed her, she knew that - and he was just the type of man who would do something just to annoy someone. He must have been a real piece of work as a teenager, she thought. She had learned to ignore it, and after a while she had almost started to get used to the feel of his presence only a few inches away from her, knowing that whenever she turned to him he'd be there, trying to catch her eye and throw her a wink or a smile.

This time, however, they were alone for a few moments - just as they had been a few days earlier when he had brought Henry home after their day together. Henry had taken a real interest in the stars and Hook was more than happy to teach him how to navigate by them. The door had clicked shut behind Henry, who had gone to get ready for bed, and Hook had hesitated for a moment before taking a purposeful stride toward her. Instead of being in the same hallway, they were now practically in the same pocket of air. It was as though he had no concept of propriety where encroaching on another person's space was concerned.

She had previously told herself that his actions were mostly in her imagination, that he was just being himself, flamboyant and attention-grabbing. That his coat took up most of the space in a room anyway, and did anyone really need to wear a leather trenchcoat indoors in Maine in late spring? That he was just trying to push her, see how much he could tease her before she cracked. She was tougher than he thought. She would never give him the satisfaction of winning.

She stared at him curiously. Had he done it for effect? To see if she would notice what he was doing?

How could she not notice? She could feel his body heat radiating from him. His own unique yet unmistakable scent of ocean and rum intermingled with the faint but not altogether unpleasant odour of the day's sweat overwhelmed her senses. She couldn't help but notice the way that those giant fairytale-blue eyes gazed into her own, boring into her soul and almost making her forget who she was. Of course she noticed that smile, the one that had probably caused many a corset to untie itself of its own accord, the one brimming with mischief and impish charm that he knew would get him out of trouble almost as easily as it had got him into trouble in the first place. He was so close to her that her hands tingled, itching to grab him by the collar and press her lips against his again.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to put those thoughts from her mind. There had been an entire hallway between them. He could have chosen any spot to stand in. Why did he need to choose the spot that she had already occupied?

"What is it, Swan?" he asked in a quiet, husky voice, both eyebrows raising briefly at her. She narrowed her eyes and considered her words before replying.

"Do you know you're doing that?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"You're in my space."

"Your space?" he repeated, chuckling slightly to mask his bemusement. "I was under the impression that the air was free."

"Haven't you ever heard of personal space?"

"I've lived on a ship most of my life. Space has always been at a premium, nobody has ever had enough of it to lay sole claim to it," he said. Emma hadn't taken her eyes from his lips as he spoke, watching the way his mouth shaped his words. She found herself wishing that those lips were caressing her skin, thinking of the way his lips would move and the way his mouth would feel as he mumbled sweet nothings onto her body.

"We're not on a ship now," she said, her voice unexpectedly hoarse. She swallowed again and looked away from him.

"You don't like me standing here? It causes you discomfort?" he asked. She wasn't sure if his tone of concern was genuine or sarcastic and she suspected it may have been a little of each.

"Killian," she said, shaking her head. "You just get too close. You do it a lot. It's uncomfortable."

"Killian," he said, smiling softly. "You've only ever called me that in front of the lad before," he reminded her. She looked up at him, blushing slightly.

"Force of habit," she said. He chuckled, a dirty, throaty chuckle that made her twinge in places she never knew could be affected by laughter.

"Why don't you want me to be close to you, Swan?" he asked. "Are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of anybody," she said, looking directly and unflinchingly into his eyes. "You know that." He nodded once in agreement.

"Aye. So if you aren't afraid of me, what is it? You don't trust me?"

"You are a pirate," she reminded him. He nodded again, his blue eyes sparkling at her and making her insides turn to fire. He needed to step away from her before she did something she would regret.

"That I am," he agreed. "So you don't trust me?"

"It isn't that," she said, shaking her head. His eyebrows raised again as his stubbled features creased into a smile.

"Ah. Then maybe it's yourself that you don't trust?" he said. She looked away again. "That's it, isn't it? What terrible thing do you think you'd do to me if I got too close to you?"

"Why would I want to do anything to you?" she asked. She could feel her heart pounding so hard in her chest that she thought the sound would deafen him. He leaned in closer to her, not taking his eyes from her.

"Would I enjoy it?" he whispered. He lowered his head slightly and Emma gasped as she felt his breath on her neck, his lips so close to her throat she could almost feel them against her skin. "Or perhaps you're afraid of how much you'd enjoy it." He smiled to himself as he saw her body tremble. "That must mean you've thought of it."

"Hook," she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing him away. He straightened up and looked back at her. "It's late," she said, firmly.

"I know," he said, gently brushing her hair back behind her shoulder with his hook.

"Henry is the other side of that door, and... I need to be with him," she said, shrugging her shoulders, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes firmly for a second or two in order to break the eye contact. Killian clamped his lips together and nodded.

"Of course," he said. He took hold of Emma's hand and kissed it softly, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Goodnight, Swan."

"Goodnight."

Emma watched him walk into his own room and close the door behind him. Leaning heavily against her own door she let out a heavy sigh and ran her hands over her face.

She closed her eyes and remembered how she felt, being so close to him, achingly close - yet he hadn't even touched her. He had done it on purpose. To tease her, to tantalise her, to make her forget - even for a second - about the job she had to do to protect the people she loved. To protect him, too.

Shaking her her head and heaving another sigh, Emma opened her door. She had always prided herself on the fact that she was smart and no-nonsense - but the one thing she hadn't realised until that moment, was that personal space was sometimes highly overrated.

**THE END**


End file.
